by Tim Green
"Well, I'll find out for you today," Alice said. "I can't say how soon, but I can do it. Getting the stuff won't be a big problem. They're pretty loose with evidence at the D. A.'s office when it comes to us. You know, we're supposed to be on the same side. But if I do get a match, I don't want you to go telling everyone until tomorrow. If I'm gonna do this on the QT, you've got to give me a chance to get the evidence back in the vault."
"No problem. Thanks, Alice," Madison said sincerely. "I owe you."
"Again," Alice reminded her. 'You owe me again, honey."
Before Marty could begin his investigation for Madison, he had to take Cody home. Marty didn't want to just drop Cody off after the day's events, so they went to a restaurant where they could get a secluded table and a couple of steaks. Afterward, Cody asked Marty to go to the video rental store and get Tht Bishop's Wife for him. It was an old black-and-white Cary Grant film. Cody had seen it before, and he knew it was good--the kind of movie that might take his mind off things for a brief time. Marty doubted if anything could make him feel good in those empty moments when he was by himself, but the movie would be a good reprieve. After picking up the video, Marty dropped Cody off at home and promised to be back by seven-thirty the next morning. Before he got out of the car, Cody sat for a moment, looking straight ahead.
"Marty, I really want to thank you."
"Hey, I'm your agent. I told you I'd stick by you, through thick and thin."
"I know," Cody replied, still looking out the windshield, 'but you've gone beyond the agent point. You've been a great friend, probably the only one I have...."
Marty didn't know what to say. He could tell Cody meant it. He had never had a client talk like this. Most of them expected him to do the things he did for them. No one had ever really thanked him with anything more than a perfunctory mumble.
"I appreciate it, Cody," he said honestly.
Cody nodded. They had talked of nothing the entire evening but the trial, what Madison said and did and how things looked. Cody would go from elation with the certainty that he would be acquitted to total depression at the idea of going to jail, all in the span of ten minutes. Up and down he had gone, the entire evening. Not once though, did he mention Jenny's name or what she'd done to him. Matty said nothing about her either,- instead, he had patiently stayed with Cody every step along the way of his emotional roller coaster ride, assuring him that things were going extremely well.
Matty thought Cody was going to get out of the car, but he stopped after opening the door and said suddenly, "I can't believe she did it, Marty."
Marty looked at him and pushed his glasses up while he cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I know that must have hurt. It was awful."
"I mean, I know I've never been the greatest husband," Cody said. "I'm not saying it's all her. There were things I could have done that I didn't. But she's bad, Marty. I always knew it, I guess. I knew it, but I could never admit it to myself. I never let myself see it. She's bad."
"Yes," Marty said solemnly, "she is."
"How did I marry a girl like that Marty?" he said. "I'm not that bad a person, do you think?" "No," Marty said, "I know you're not. You're not a bad person at all. You've got a hot head, but I don't think there's anything bad about you, really. I think you just fell in love with beauty, and that's all that was important then. It happens to a lot of people."
"Yeah. Well," Cody said, getting out of the car, "I'll see you tomorrow, Marty. Thanks again."
The house was dark. Despite himself, Cody couldn't help wondering where Jenny was. The answering machine was blinking. He didn't bother to play the messages. It would be the media trying to get him to do their interviews or some other people who didn't really care. He was alone and he knew it. There was beer in the fridge, and Cody took a six-pack out, bringing it with him to the TV room where he settled down on the couch to watch his movie. He took a Percoset from his pocket and washed it down with a swig from his beer. He was as content as he could be under the circumstances. A good movie and some good beer were all he usually needed. Each would do their part, along with the Percoset, in taking him away from the place he was.
About an hour into the movie, the phone rang. Cody ignored it, but when he heard Marty's voice on the machine in the kitchen, he reached over and picked up the phone that was next to him.
"Cody?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, 1 thought you were there--"
"1 am," Cody said.
"Uhhhh," Marty hesitated. "I'm not too good at this."
"Marty, what the hell's wrong?" Cody demanded in an even voice.
"Okay, the team called. They're worried about the roster and, you know, they need to pick someone up--"
"What are you telling me?" Cody said, "They put me on the injured reserve list?"
"No, they cut you. I didn't know if I should--"
"They can't cut me, Marty. I'm hurt," he insisted, certain Marty had made some kind of mistake. "You can't cut an injured guy. You put him on IR."
"I know," Marty said. "We're going to have to sue them. They cut you. No settlement. No payout. Just cut. They said they needed the room on the roster, and they didn't have any extra money under the cap to bring this guy in from Green Bay on an undisclosed trade. They said they didn't want to do it, but they had to. They need another safety."
"That's bullshit!" Cody yelled into the phone. 'They have room on the roster with me on IR! They can't cut me!"
They were silent for a moment.
"They did," Marty said. "It had something to do with the salary cap. They had to pick up the contract of the guy they signed. I'm sorTy."
"You tell those motherfuckers ..." Cody roared. He was hyperventilating now. "You tell them ..."
Cody's voice broke, and he fought to regain control. He bit the inside of his mouth.
"I gotta go, Marty," he said.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I gotta go--"
"We'll sue their asses off."
"Sure," Cody said, then hung up.
Striker and Jenny had dinner at the Four Seasons. It was his send-off to her. After Jenny delivered the pit to his apartment, they were going to take a few days off. The media would be hounding Jenny, and after the last few days, Striker thought it best to give it a rest.
"When you leave here," Striker told her, "make sure no one is following you. I'm not worried about the agency, but you never know if one of those reporters hasn't gotten enough from you today."
Jenny nodded. That made sense to her.
"Here are the keys to my Pontiac. It's on Twenty-second Street, just off Guadeloupe. It's a big old gold thing with no hubcaps. You'll see it. Get the suitcase out of the trunk and head for Goldthwaite tonight. I don't have to tell you to make sure that you take that case with you wherever you go. Keep things simple. Don't talk to anyone, and get yourself holed up in that Texas Inn there tonight. Tomorrow morning I'll call the general back and tell him where to meet you. If anything funny is going to happen, it'll happen some time after about nine. Are you okay?"
"Yes," she said.
He knew she was still shaken by the trial, but had gone to lunch afterward, where they drank a bottle of wine. Then they went back to his apartment to work up a sweat in bed. She seemed better now, but he was still concerned.
"You say that, but you're not completely okay, are you? Maybe you should talk about it."
"1 just feel..."
"Guilty?"
"No," she said calmly, "no, I feel sad. I didn't think I would, but I do. I knew it would be hard. I just thought that once it was done, I could walk away and forget it. But I'll be fine. 1 think 1 just need a good night's sleep."
"Well," Striker said, "1 hope that's all. It's bad timing, the general calling today, but nothing can be done about that. I know he wants to wrap this up, and we can't risk letting him sit around with the pit. He's liable to fuck it up. You just keep your mind on what we're doing. You'll be fine."
"I wil
l be fine," she said. "I'm glad 1 told you, though. I think 1 needed to say it. You don't mind, do you?"
"No," he said, leaning across the table to kiss her lips, "I don't mind at all."
Cody drove for some time. He went up to Lake Travis and pulled off the highway at a remote Catholic church high up on a ridge overlooking the lake. He got out of his truck and limped across the grass and through a covered walkway that stretched between the church and its offices. It was a cool fall night, and Cody wished he'd brought a jacket. There was no one in sight. Once through the walkway, the Texas sky unfolded like a new universe. The moon was full and rising. Its heavy beams danced on the lake that lay hundreds of feet below him, sprawled out between the dark jagged hills. It was a magnificent sight, and it made Cody momentarily forget the problems that had rocked his life like a catastrophic earthquake. Everything he had worked so hard for over the years to build and maintain had been smashed to the ground. A breeze blew in his face, and in a few minutes he was shivering.
He hobbled slowly back to his truck, reluctant to leave the beautiful sight. He scoffed at the idea that he might not see that sight again, but it was true. By the end of the week he could be in jail. If he wasn't, he would really have no reason to stay on in Austin. His career was over. The Outlaws had slashed him open and salted the wound. There was no going black now. What they had done only confirmed that the doctors believed his knee was well beyond any hope of recovery. They wouldn't have done to him what they did if there was any chance of his return. It twisted his insides to even think about the media, but he couldn't help it. They would make a big deal out of his being cut. Everyone would know that he was done, a true has-been. It was exactly why he had suffered so much these past few weeks: the fear of being humiliated and perceived as a total loser.
Cody had no intention of going to Madison's home, but to get home from where he had been, he had to pass her neighborhood on the way. He wondered if that wasn't what he was doing up at Lake Travis all along, just giving himself a route home that took him so close to her that he couldn't do anything but stop. He made the decision at the last second, right before the turn. He had to cut it sharp. His tires squealed. He wound his way through the hills and down her long, wide street where you couldn't get a house for under a half a million. He pulled up into her driveway as he had most nights for the past two weeks. It didn't seem intrusive to him at all.
He rang the bell. Madison's voice was harsh and threatening.
"Who is it?" she demanded.
Cody looked at his watch It was only nine-thirty. "It's me," he said quietly.
"Cody?" she said, her voice softening.
"Yes," he said. He felt like he was picking her up for the prom. He was that nervous.
Madison opened the door and stood there. She was wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of faded green cotton sweatpants. Nothing, not even those clothes, could hide the fact that she had a wonderful body.
"Can I come in?" he said.
She jumped as if she had been daydreaming.
"Of course," she said. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes," he said, stepping inside. "Let me take off my boots. I got them muddy."
"That's all right," she said, "can I get you a drink or anything?"
"No," he said.
They stood there looking at each other uncomfortably.
"You look so sad," she said gently, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder.
Cody's face contorted in pain, and he bit his lower lip.
"They cut me," he said.
"Oh, Cody," she said compassionately, pulling him into a kindhearted hug.
He let his hands fall around her waist. He pulled her tight, and a small sob escaped.
"What happened to my life?" he heard himself say through his tears. "Why am I here?"
Madison looked up at him. She put her hands on his cheeks.
"Shhh," she said. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad."
Cody looked down at her. She was so kind, and the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He knew then that so much of his life had been a mistake. Everything for years had been so sick and so wrong. Here was the answer he had always hoped and longed for, a woman who would love him and stand by him,- a woman who was strong, yet beautiful and delicate,- a woman he could trust to be there whether times were good or bad. He was at the lowest point he had ever been right now, but he knew, from her eyes, that that didn't matter in the least.
Then Cody kissed her. She stiffened only briefly, and then it was as if he had torn down a floodgate of emotion and desire. Madison pulled the shirt out of his pants and ran her hands up and down his torso, groping desperately over every muscle and striation. He pulled his shirt off and put his fingers into her hair. It was thick and soft, and it felt just as he imagined it would.
Madison began backing away from him, slowly moving up the stairs. Each of them was careful not to break the kiss that connected them and electrified them, afraid that if they did, the spell of passion would break and end any hope they had right then and there. They made their way slowly to the top of the stairs and into her bedroom. When they were at the edge of her bed, Cody let his jeans fall to the floor, and he wriggled out of them until he stood there before her wearing nothing at all. Her hands continued to grope his body as if she couldn't feel enough of him at one time. He undid her pants and she twisted out of them, then tore off her T-shirt and threw it to the floor. Cody pressed himself up against her and felt the softness of her burning skin.
Cody hooked his hands around the backs of her thighs and gently lifted her off the floor. It was the first time Madison had had a man in over two years. She turned into a frantic animal, twisting and gyrating wildly with him,- every part of her was wrapped tightly around his body, squeezing him like a hungry serpent. Then Cody laid her down on the bed. He arched his back and rose above her on his hands so he could watch as she turned and twisted in ecstasy. He began a slow, steady rhythm that intensified until Madison was moaning wildly, and they both collapsed in the throes of pleasure.
Cody rose up above her, admiring her beauty in the light of the full moon that was shining in across the bed. She was beautiful in a different way than Jenny ever was. Jenny was picture-perfect, alluring, and seductive, like a sexy lingerie ad. Madison was attractive in a wholesome way. Her features weren't sculpted like Jenny's, but she was just as beautiful, if not more. A warmth emanated from her. It was like the difference between a diamond ring and a new puppy. Cody put his hand softly against her cheek, and she smiled without opening her eyes. Madison reached up and pulled him to her, kissing him tenderly on the lips.
"I never felt so good about acting so completely unethical in all my life," she whispered into his ear.
"How is this unethical?" he asked quietly.
"Because sexual relations with a client can get you disbarred. Although I don't think there's ever been a case where the client was a man and the attorney a woman...."
"You amaze me more and more each day," he said.
They lay there quietly together for some time.
"Wait," Madison said, "don't move."
She tore herself away for a moment to get up and set her security system then she set the alarm clock next to the bed.
"You'll have to leave early," she said apologetically, "before Jo-Jo gets up."
"No problem," he told her. "I'm glad you're letting me stay at all. The last thing I want is to be alone tonight."
Cody found his pants and took a Percoset out of the pocket, swallowing it dry. Madison pulled back the covers and beckoned him to her. He climbed underneath. He lay on his back and Madison snuggled tightly against him, resting her head on his bare chest. They were perfectly still. Each in . Their own thoughts but sharing the same happiness.
"It seems like everything is all tight," he said in a tired voice. "I mean, like you and I have been like this forever, and the world is perfect..."
"Right now, it is," she said sleepily.
Cody smiled as the
Percoset took effect and the incoming tide of sleep washed slowly over him.
When he drove by and saw that all the lights were off and Cody Grey's truck was still in the driveway, Joe Thurwood screeched to a halt and jumped out of his car with the engine running, right there in the middle of the street. He was halfway up the driveway when he realized he was being stupid. But he was so enraged to see Grey's truck there at three-fifteen in the morning that he was seeing nothing but red. He would smash Grey's bones. He knew that. Not only had Cody lied to him, the son-of-a-bitch was fucking his wife, and doing it with his kid in the house!
Joe walked warily down the driveway and got into his trutk. He drove out to the main road and left the tnick on the shoulder. He took the bat from the floor of his backseat, then made his way on foot back to the house that had once been his. He crept up the front and into the bushes where he stopped to take a baggy out of his pants and have a snort of powder. He sat down in the dirt to let that settle in. There was something comforting about sitting there in what were once his own bushes. His senses were heightened from the coke. He became increasingly aware of the sights and sounds around him, the smell of the wooden baseball bat resting against his cheek, the crickets screaming in his ears. He started to move, then a car drove down the street. It was unusual for someone to be driving at this time of night. Joe froze in his spot for almost twenty minutes, the paranoia of the drugs holding him there like quick-drying cement.
When he thought it was safe, Joe crept out of the foliage and up to the front door. He took a key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock. He was going in. He turned the key, but it didn't budge.
"Damn!" he cursed, waving the bat in the air. "That bitch! Changed the fucking locks!"
He stood back, preparing to throw his full weight into the door and smash it down. He'd be upstairs and pummeling Cody Grey before he knew what was happening.
"Stupid," Joe said to himself suddenly, stopping before he broke the door.
He began to think. That's what he needed to do, think, not just act. Madison had taught him that over these past two years. She'd taught him that in the outside world, outside of football, you could fuck people up if you only stopped to think carefully about how to do it. If he went in now, he would probably activate the alarm and the cops would come. If he went in now, the noise would wake his son and he'd be scared shitless. If he went in now, he'd fuck up everything he'd worked for over these last few months. His lawyer warned him of that, that he'd only get one second chance.
